


stay cool, it's just a kiss

by YaelaTheWordsmith



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bonding, Daichi is on the aro spectrum so, Dorks in Love, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, M/M, They're so soft hhhhh, Training Camp, daichi is falling so hard and tbh so am i, man i made myself uwu with this so this fic is certified cute af, well kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25632370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaelaTheWordsmith/pseuds/YaelaTheWordsmith
Summary: In which Kuroo accidentally outs himself, Daichi is determined to explain a few things to him, and they meet in Shinzen's moonlit chemistry lab.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi
Comments: 29
Kudos: 191
Collections: stories that touched me





	stay cool, it's just a kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Talk Too Much](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWxM_zLJGsU), by COIN! Which I think is a perfect song for these two hehe
> 
> So I see a whole lot of fics with first kisses going smooth and perfect and hot right off the bat, which, you know, that's awesome for the ship! but this is my attempt at something more realistic, something that you could imagine happening at school or with your first partner - the confession is absolutely a reflection of how me and my classmates used to discuss our crushes when I was much younger lol. So yeah, I hope you enjoy!

It’s late afternoon on the second last day of summer training camp, bright light filtering through to the locker room where Nekoma’s volleyball team is just about done changing. Lev and Inuoka are chatting with Yamamoto about some new video game, Inuoka toweling his hair dry and Lev shrugging on a T-shirt that would dwarf anyone else as Yamamoto laughs at him. Yaku is helping Fukunaga hunt for his last pair of clean socks, and Tetsurou is talking to Kai about possibly bumping up their defense against Ubugawa’s serves while Shibayama and Kenma listen. The air smells of stale sweat and fresh deodorant and damp towels, halfway to unpleasant but oddly comforting. The muffled sounds of volleyballs slamming into the ground and shoes squeaking on the gym floor sneak under the door from outside, accompanied by faint shouts of ‘Free ball!’ and ‘Nice serve!’ and ‘Cover!’, by yells from coaches to pick feet up, to move further back for defense, to form tighter blocks.

“We could sub Shibayama in a bit more,” Kai says, shaking out his towel. “They’re not as used to him, and our opponents generally tend to underestimate him. And it would give Yakkun a breather.”

Tetsurou glances at Shibayama, a little amused by his blush. “Yakkun wouldn’t consider that an advantage, but yeah, that’s true. You up for it, kid?”

“Sure! I definitely need more practice with serve receives, but - Ubugawa is, um -”

“If you can handle Bokuto, you can handle anything Ubugawa throws at you,” Kenma says, apparently talking to the shoelaces he’s tugging tight. “Have more confidence in yourself.”

Shibayama goes a shade of red that matches their uniforms. “Yes, senpai! Thank you!”

Kai smiles to himself, and Tetsurou briefly pats Shibayama on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit. So you’ll start for us tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yes!”

“Great.” Tetsurou claps his hands once, and the chatter dies down as his teammates look his way. “Okay, guys, we’re done for today, good work from everyone. Ubugawa and Fukurodani are using the locker room after us, so as usual make sure you don’t leave anything behind. Karasuno and Shinzen might run till five, you can take time to wind down until six. Gym two will only be open for free practice after eight today, so if you want to use it you’re going to be responsible for getting the keys and putting them back, Coach Naoi will have them. I heard people are gonna use gym one for serve-receive practice and gym three for block follows, take your pick. Lev, I expect you to spend time at both, understand?”

“Yes, captain,” Lev groans, everyone else chuckling around him.

“Okay then, let’s get going. If you don’t have anything else to do, head to the kitchens to give the managers a hand with dinner.”

They file out with a chorus of assent, shouldering gym bags and carrying stacks of clothes that need to be washed. Tetsurou hangs back to check for anything left behind, and spies his deodorant across the room, sitting on the bench by where Yamamoto had used it. He clicks his tongue exasperatedly, going to get it, and he’s just picked it up when the locker room door slams open behind him with a “Hey!” that’s so loud he nearly drops the can on his foot.

“Shit -” He manages to catch it and whirls around to see Sawamura in the doorway, panting slightly. “What the hell, dude, you almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Thank god someone’s still here,” Sawamura says. “Please tell me you have an extra pair of kneepads, I forgot my second pair in the dorm and it would take ages to go get them and our match with Shinzen is supposed to start right now and -”

“Okay, okay, chill,” Tetsurou says, grinning at how ruffled the usually steady Sawamura is. “My bag’s right next to you, a fresh pair should be at the bottom.”

“Thanks, Kuroo,” Sawamura sighs, bending to unzip Tetsurou’s gym bag. “I owe you one.”

“If you owe me one, introduce Yamamoto to your manager so he’ll finally shut up,” Tetsurou says dryly, picking up a wristband someone has left behind and scanning the room one last time.

“Yeah, I don’t owe you _that_ much,” Sawamura says, digging around in the bag. “Shimizu has too much to deal with from our own team already.”

“Can’t argue with that. You still haven’t found them?”

“Well, maybe if you folded your clothes neatly instead of just tossing them all in like this -”

“Hey, I swear they were right there!” Tetsurou steps over a bench, heading to where Sawamura is crouched. “You’re just not looking -”

He reaches him just in time to see Sawamura push his Nekoma jacket aside, revealing the bottom of the bag and the glossy cover of a magazine he’d completely forgotten he’d left in there. Panic explodes in his chest as the model smirks up at the both of them with intense eyes and a sculpted body, with his thumbs hooked in the low waistband of his jeans, with the rainbow flag painted on his bare chest, and Tetsurou thinks, _Oh, **fuck** -_

He yanks the bag away, hoping against hope that Sawamura didn’t see it - but one look at his expression, slightly startled, growing confused, is enough to tell him he did.

Tetsurou forces a shaky laugh as his heart plummets like a stone, hastily fishing out the kneepads from where they’ve slipped inside the folds of the jacket. “Here you go, see, they were right there. I, uh, gotta get going now, so yeah. Good luck with your game. See ya.”

“Kuroo, hold on a second -”

“No, I _really_ need to get going -”

“Kuroo!” Sawamura grabs the strap of his bag, stopping him from getting up. He looks more embarrassed than anything now, but he still meets Tetsurou’s gaze directly. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

He means it, Tetsurou can see that, but it doesn’t help when sick humiliation is sweeping over him in a burning wave. He looks away and stands, breaking Sawamura’s grip,

“Just - don’t, um, tell anyone? Please.”

“Of course I won’t. But it really is fine, okay?”

“I - sure. Okay. I’ll see you around.” Tetsurou turns his back on Sawamura and ducks out of the room as fast as humanly possible - all he wants to do is to get the hell out and find some nice, dark place to curl up and hide, preferably for the next decade, so he can forget this ever happened.

But Sawamura still hurries after him, this time laying a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Kuroo, listen. Can we - talk about this? Like, properly?”

Tetsurou laughs as he faces him, and it comes out a short, harsh thing past the lump in his throat. “You have a match right now, remember?”

“Okay, later then, any time you’re free -”

“All we do is eat, play, and sleep. Not much free time, Sawamura. Just drop it, okay?”

“Please!” Sawamura takes a step back and actually bows slightly, and when he looks up, his eyes are almost imploring. “Please, Kuroo.”

Tetsurou bites back a curse. How is he supposed to say no to that? What the hell is Sawamura’s deal? And god, why did this have to happen with _him_ of all people?

“You know what - fine. Okay. Chemistry lab, academic block, after dinner. I’ll - find the keys and leave a side door open or something.”

Sawamura smiles, and his whole face lights up in a way that should absolutely be illegal. “Thank you! Um, at night? Ten thirty?”

“Eleven. Some of my team take a while to get to sleep.”

“Okay, you got it. I’ll, uh, see you then!”

“Yeah, see you.”

Tetsurou watches him turn and sprint down the corridor, his knuckles white on the strap of his bag. When he’s gone, he slowly sits on the floor, tucks his knees to his chest, and furiously fights the overwhelming urge to cry.

He just got outed. He just got fucking outed, and there’s nothing to blame except his own carelessness. He could have just stuffed that stupid magazine in the back of his cupboard or under his mattress at home, but he’d been running late to board the bus for camp and had just decided to throw it in his gym bag, where there was no chance his parents would find it even accidentally.

 _‘No one’s going to open my bag except me anyway,’ I remember thinking_. Tetsurou leans his head back against the wall, wiping a stray tear away. _God, I was such an idiot._

He allows himself five more minutes before he gets to his feet, slapping his cheeks with both hands. “Shake it off,” he mutters to himself, like he would tell the team after a botched serve. “Don’t worry about it until you have to face him. You’ll be fine, okay?”

But mortification and fear have a cold, iron grip on the back of his neck, and he thinks, miserably, that just getting through the rest of the day knowing he has to face Sawamura tonight is going to be torture of the worst kind.

***

Daichi manages to find the chemistry lab with five minutes to spare before eleven o’clock, but Kuroo is still there before him. He’s a distant silhouette sitting cross-legged on a long, black marble workbench that runs along the far wall, in the middle of a row of windows flooded with moonlight.

The lab is hushed, completely dark apart from long rectangles of silver light painting the floor at even intervals, glass stoppers gleaming in the corner of Daichi’s eye and his footsteps loud to his own ears as he heads towards Kuroo. It’s only when he’s nearly there that he realises that Kuroo is visibly on edge, his fingers tapping restlessly on one knee as he looks out at Shinzen’s basketball court, and Daichi’s heart clenches in his chest. He clears his throat, soft and tentative in the stillness, and Kuroo turns instantly.

“Uh, hey.”

“Hey. You made it.”

Daichi hops onto the workbench with his back to the window, letting his feet dangle over the edge. “Yeah. Thanks for getting the keys and everything. And, um, for agreeing to this. I know I was being pushy.”

“You were, yeah.” Kuroo’s voice is low in his throat, quieter than usual. “Why, Sawamura? You don’t seem like the kind of guy to bust his ass proving how tolerant he is just to show off.”

“What - no! No, that isn’t why I wanted to talk to you.”

“Then?”

Daichi takes a breath and lets it out as he looks at his knees, weirdly nervous. “I just - I just wanted to say - I could recommend a better magazine. If you want. That one isn’t too great.” He forces himself to look up, to meet Kuroo’s half-surprised frown. “And that it’s really reassuring to know there’s - someone else here like me. So you really, really don't have to worry about me telling anyone. And - yeah. Sorry for making a big deal out of the whole thing.”

Kuroo blinks. “Oh. Wait - wait, _really_?”

Daichi smiles sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Nope.”

“ _Really?_ ”

“Why’s it so hard to believe, idiot?” Daichi laughs, shoving Kuroo’s knees.

“ ‘Cuz like -” Kuroo is smiling now, open and still kind of surprised, nothing like his usual teasing smirk. “Okay, no offence, but you give off massive dependable husband vibes. Like, two kids and a dog and settled by thirty vibes.”

“I take full offence,” Daichi says, trying to look disapproving, but it’s hard when Kuroo’s grin is so infectious. “Anyway, I could still be a dependable husband. I just - wouldn’t have a wife.”

“Huh.” Kuroo props his chin up in one hand. “Thanks for telling me.”

“I kinda felt like I had to, after what happened. I’d hate to be outed when I didn’t want to be, even by accident.”

“Ah, yeah, I was . . . pretty scared. You never really know how people could react, you know?”

“Yeah . . . I’ve never known anyone else who’s, uh, gay. I mean, maybe I did, but I never knew anyone who was open about it, so. If they were, I wouldn’t know.”

“I know one or two in school, actually. It was never pretty, the kind of rumours that got spread about them.”

Daichi winces. “Shit, yeah. I can imagine.”

“You, um, still don’t know anyone gay, though.”

“I don’t?”

“I’m not -” Kuroo makes a vague gesture with one hand. “I kinda tend to like guys more, I guess, but I still like girls.”

“Oh.” Daichi takes a second to digest this. “That’s cool too.”

Kuroo smiles again, that honest smile, and it does something weird and fluttery to Daichi’s chest. “You know, this isn’t how I pictured this conversation going at all,” he says.

“What did you picture?”

“Something like - I don’t know, you telling me that you have queer friends, that you’re an ally, that it’s nothing to be ashamed about, that you won’t tell anyone, etcetra. Like, well intentioned straight guy support.”

Daichi has to laugh. “ ‘Straight guy support’,” he says. “That’s a nice phrase.”

“Right?” Kuroo grins. “Sounds like a super macho hotline.”

Daichi laughs again, covering his mouth with a hand when it echoes through the lab. “I would kinda appreciate straight guy support, honestly,” he says, more quietly. “Especially surrounded by so many testosterone fueled idiots day in and day out. . . Although, knowing the guys on my team, they’d probably be just as loud and testosterone fueled telling me they support me.”

Kuroo shifts to curl up with one shoulder against the wall, his face just out of the moonlight. “That’s more Buzzcut and Shrimpy and your libero though, right? What about Sugawara and Azumane? I mean, of course you know them better, but they seem like they’d be chill about it.”

“Well . . .” Daichi shifts as well, leaning back against the grill of the window and looking up at the shadowed ceiling. “I never had the guts to tell them. I figured it out fairly recently, you know? Or rather, I kinda always knew, but I didn’t let myself accept it until some months ago.”

“Mm. I get that.”

“What about you? Have you told anyone?”

Kuroo takes a second to answer, and in the space left behind by his words Daichi finds himself thinking that this is really nice, sitting with Kuroo like this. This quiet conversation in a softly lit corner of this huge, dark room, it’s . . . intimate in a way that’s odd, but good. It’s nice to see this side of Kuroo, soft and a little vulnerable and - well, just a boy relieved to be able to talk to someone who shares this with him.

“I . . . yeah, I have,” Kuroo says, and he sounds more subdued now. “Not friends, um . . . family.”

Daichi whistles lowly, turning to look at Kuroo. “Really? They were okay with it?”

“They were . . .” Kuroo runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it as he grimaces. “They were kinda surprised? And they didn’t know how to handle it, so now they’re all cautious about it. Like, I can see them get awkward every time something even remotely related to the subject comes up. It just gets frustrating, you know? I’m still your son, who I like doesn’t define me. Who knows, I might even settle down with a girl like you assumed I would someday, so don’t keep worrying about what’s going to happen to me and how difficult my life will be.”

“That does sound frustrating, yeah. I’m sorry, Kuroo. Hopefully they’ll learn how to accept it someday?”

“Yeah, hopefully. Did you tell your family?”

Daichi snorts. “Not a chance in hell.”

“Bad attitudes?”

“You could say that. I just - I know they wouldn’t get it. And they wouldn’t really make a real attempt to get past their prejudices and try to even understand it, forget about accepting it.”

“Ah. Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine. They’re not bad people, just - yeah. I got used to it, honestly.”

“But, hey -” Kuroo reaches out to poke his shoulder gently. “Now you have me, am I right?”

Daichi laughs, grinning at him with a rush of gratitude. “Now I have you. It feels so much better, having someone to talk to who really gets it.”

“Especially when you're not quite sure who else you can really trust with it,” Kuroo says, grinning right back. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

They’re quiet for a minute. An owl hoots faintly, somewhere outside, and Daichi’s thoughts end up drifting to Bokuto and his team, if they might manage to actually scrape a win tomorrow before going back to Miyagi, if he should maybe be thinking about getting back to bed . . .

“Hey, Sawamura.”

“Mm?”

“Million dollar question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did you ever have a crush on anyone? Like at school?”

Daichi raises an eyebrow. “Going straight for the gossip, hm?”

“Just curious,” Kuroo says, trying and failing to look innocent, and Daichi can’t help smiling.

“I did have crushes on a couple of celebrities, around when I was thirteen? Oh, and this anime voice actor with this really great voice. At school . . . no one in junior high, but in high school, I did for a few months.”

“Senpai?” Kuroo says, teasingly. “Ooh, a teacher?”

“Ew, no. Uh, a teammate.”

“Oho! Lemme guess, Sugawara? The guy’s too pretty to exist.”

“ . . . Asahi, actually.”

Kuroo sits up a little straighter. “Azumane? Really?”

“Yeah.” Daichi knows he’s blushing, and prays the darkness will hide it. “Last year. He’s just - a really nice person.”

“Uh, and he’s super hot.”

Daichi leans over and punches him, blushing even harder, and Kuroo yelps. “Don’t say that!”

“It's true, though! Don’t tell me you don’t dig the whole beard and man-bun look.” Kuroo grins at Daichi, who scowls at him halfheartedly. “And like, the dude’s got this whole badass exterior and his spikes are freaking deadly, but when you talk to him he’s all kind and sweet and stuff. Not bad, Sawamura, I approve of your taste.”

“Shut up,” Daichi groans. “Your turn, then, who did you crush on?”

“This senpai who used to live on my street,” Kuroo says promptly. “He was in third year when I was in first, and man, he looked like he walked out of a modeling catalogue. The guy used to get buried in chocolate on Valentine's Day.”

“I pity his wallet on White Day, then. He was straight?”

“Ha, I never found out. He moved after high school, and I was left to pine until my crush died a sad, lonely death.”

Daichi snorts with laughter. “And since then your broken heart has never felt the warm touch of romance again, huh?”

“You sure know your shoujo manga,” Kuroo chuckles. “And no, I started crushing on someone again in third year.”

He sounds a little embarrassed now, and Daichi’s thoughts immediately flash to the Nekoma team. “Let me guess, Yaku?”

“No!”

“Kai-kun?”

“Why the hell are you going through my team?”

“Because you sounded all shy about it, so where else would they be from? Is it Kenma?”

“Ew, no!” Kuroo looks caught between laughter and exasperation. “It's not someone on my team, god.”

“But it’s a guy who plays volleyball?”

“ . . . It is.”

“Aha!” Daichi leans towards Kuroo, grinning. “Is it someone at camp?”

“Yeah.”

“Third year?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“So it is!”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Okay, is he younger than you?”

“I . . . don’t know when his birthday is, so I don’t know.”

“If he _wasn’t_ in third year, you’d have said yes to that.”

“What - hey, he could be someone in a different year who just - repeated a year or something! Or joined school late!”

“Nah, he’s totally in third year. Okay, what position does he play?”

“You’re enjoying this interrogation much more than you should be, Sawamura.”

“Consider this mild payback for the endless diving laps we've had to do because of you guys.”

“That’s so not fair, this is emotional warfare -”

“What position does he play?”

“Ugh, wing spiker, okay?”

“Now we’re getting somewhere! Does he specialize in offense like Bokuto, or defense like me?”

“Defense,” Kuroo says, and his eyes flick to Daichi’s for a second before he looks down and away.

Daichi is silent for a second as startled realization begins to dawn on him. “Wait,” he says, slowly. “Wait a second. Is he from Tokyo?”

“ . . Nope,” Kuroo says, very quietly.

“Holy shit.” Daichi sits back, staring at him. “You’re kidding me.”

Kuroo buries his face in his hands with something that sounds very much like a mortified whine, and Daichi grins incredulously even though his face feels like it’s on fire.

“Holy shit,” he says again. “You totally wanted me to know, didn’t you?”

Kuroo looks up at him forlornly from between his fingers. “Maybe,” he says, his voice still tiny. “Sorry if it’s weird or -”

“Hey, no, of course not,” Daichi says instantly. “I just - I wasn’t expecting - me?”

“Don’t give me that face,” Kuroo says, looking up a little more. “You look like you have question marks floating over your head.”

“I definitely feel like it,” Daichi says, half-laughing. “Why me, though? I’m nothing special.”

“Dude, your team would collapse without you on it. You’re a great captain, you’re super supportive of your kohai, you have unbelievable drive and determination that you back up with hard work, and you’re, uh, pretty easy on the eyes. So.”

“Kuroo, literally everything you just said about me applies to you, too,” Daichi retorts, flattered and flustered and still kind of disbelieving. “And pretty easy on the eyes, huh? Sounds like a sneaky way to say you think I’m hot.”  
  
Kuroo goes a darker red and dives back behind his hands. “Shut up,” he mumbles.

“You _do_ you think I’m hot!” Daichi says, not bothering to disguise his delight as he pokes Kuroo's shoulder. “You _like_ me, you wanna _date_ me, you -”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Kuroo almost yells, lunging forward to slap his hand over Daichi’s cackling mouth. “How old are you, nine?!”

Daichi goes toppling backwards, his head hitting the cold marble countertop none too gently, but he’s too busy laughing against Kuroo’s palm to care much. Kuroo, braced awkwardly over him on one elbow, looks at him like Daichi’s seen Yamamoto look at Lev when he says he’s Nekoma’s ace, but his mouth keeps curling upward like he’s struggling not to let Daichi’s mirth infect him.

“Mmf -” Daichi swats at his wrist once he’s calmed down a bit, trying to get his hand to move. “ ‘M sorry, sorry, let me up.”

“I fucking regret everything,” Kuroo grumbles, shifting back so Daichi can sit up. “Also, a reply to my terrible confession would be appreciated, you know.”

“Ah, yeah,” Daichi says, wiping a stray tear from the corner of his eye. “Right. So . . . I’m going to be really honest, okay?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

They’re both sitting by the window now, both bathed in moonlight, cross legged and face to face. Daichi rubs the back of his neck, trying to figure out how to phrase what he wants to say. “So I - don’t know if I have a - a crush on you? I respect you a lot, and I like being around you, even if you piss me off half the time, and -” Daichi narrows his eyes in brief warning. “Don’t say anything, but, uh, you’re hot too.”

“Wait - really?” Kuroo blinks like that startles him. 

“You’re kidding, right? Don’t tell me you don’t get as much chocolate on Valentines as your model senpai.”

“I - get a fair amount? But that’s just ‘cuz I’m a starting member on the team and stuff, not -”

“You’re hot, Kuroo,” Daichi says firmly. “You’re definitely attractive. I guess it just takes me a while to get, um, romantically attached to people?”

Kuroo tilts his head a little, managing to look both optimistic and uncertain at the same time. “So . . .?”

“So I don’t have a crush on you, but I - could, I think. You kinda have everything I - I like. I’m just - not there yet.”

“Yet?” Kuroo smiles at that, a flicker of hope.

“As of now,” Daichi amends. “Um. Sorry. And I’m sorry for laughing, too, that wasn’t nice of me.”

“Hm. Apology accepted.” Kuroo flicks a finger in his face. “But we’ve already established you have good taste, so I’m banking on you coming around sooner or later.”

“We’ll see,” Daichi says, smiling at him.

“At least we’re friends, right? Bonded by gay trauma and all that.”

“We would be even if the gay trauma didn’t exist, I think, but yeah, of course we’re friends.”

“Okay.” It’s Kuroo’s eyes that narrow now, quick and calculating. “Okay - so then as a friend, I have a proposal.”

“Okay?”  
  
“So correct me if I’m wrong, but neither of us have dated anyone before, right?”

“Right.”

“So both of us are seventeen year old high school students who’ve gotten zero action in our short lives.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Okay, so I don’t know about you, but I want to at least enter my twenties having - uh, kissed someone. Like, even just once. So what I’m saying is, if you’re hot, and I’m hot, and both of us are the only people who are into guys that we know of, and we’re good enough friends to help each other out, we could - we could, uh . . .”

Daichi has, with immense effort, managed not to burst out laughing as Kuroo looks more and more embarrassed. “Say it, Kuroo, I dare you,” he says, and he can’t believe he’s managing to keep his voice this steady. “If I’m hot, and you’re hot, we could?”

“We could -” Kuroo takes a deep breath, and Daichi has to stifle an escaping snicker in his elbow. “We could -”

“Mhm?”

“You know, uh -”

“Almost there, come on.”

“Sawamura, you know what I’m trying to say!”

“Say it in a full sentence, then, and I’ll do it.”

Daichi hadn’t meant to say that, but now that he has, he finds that he means it. He might not be quite sure of how he feels towards Kuroo, romantically speaking, but he doesn’t mind the idea of kissing him - he doesn’t mind at all, actually.

Kuroo’s jaw drops a little. “You’re kidding.”

“You’re the one fucking asking me, dumbass!” Daichi says, and Kuroo looks at him, and he looks at Kuroo, and suddenly they’re both crying with laughter, Kuroo leaning his forehead against one of Daichi’s shaking shoulders as they gasp for breath.

“Come on, Kuroo,” Daichi says weakly after god knows how long, hoping he doesnt start hiccupping. “You can do it.”

Kuroo lifts his head, wiping his face on his sleeve, and looks right into Daichi’s eyes. “We’re both hot, and we’re both into guys, so let’s kiss,” he says, fighting to keep a straight face, and Daichi grins broadly at him as he shifts onto his knees.

“Move your arms out of the way,” he says.

“Move - ?”

Daichi grabs his arms and moves them apart so he can clamber ungracefully into Kuroo’s lap, settling his knees on either side of his hips and his hands on his shoulders. Kuroo automatically steadies him with a hand on his waist, too surprised to do anything else.

“Um,” he says blankly, looking up into Daichi’s face. “You’re - this - what?”

“Eloquent,” Daichi says, as his heart suddenly decides to kick into a higher gear. They’re so close like this, shit, he could count Kuroo’s eyelashes if he wanted to, and he’s so warm and solid through his T-shirt where Daichi is touching him, _shit_. “Are - are we doing this or not?”

Kuroo places careful hands on Daichi’s back, broad and gentle on either side of his spine. “Um,” he says again. “Okay, yeah, let’s . . .”

“Sorry, should I not have - am I heavy? Are you uncomfortable? I can get off -”

“No!” Kuroo’s arms tighten a little around Daichi. “No, this is good, this is fine. It’s fine.”

“Okay, then,” Daichi says softly, settling a hand on Kuroo’s cheek.

“Okay, then,” Kuroo echoes, even softer, and his eyes fall shut as Daichi guides his head to tip backward, his mouth to tilt up, and presses their lips together.

 _It’s warm_ , is his first thought. It’s warm, and Kuroo’s lips are a little dry, and it sends a gentle jolt through his spine and right into the pit of his stomach. Kuroo is actually warm everywhere, under Daichi’s thighs, under his palms, against his chest, against his arms. It’s only a few seconds before they move apart, but Daichi is already kind of reeling from the sheer intimacy of the whole thing - from how Kuroo had automatically shifted under him to accommodate his weight, from the way he smells like clean skin and faint deodorant, from how careful, how gentle the kiss had been.

“That was -” Daichi murmurs, trying to remember how to speak with Kuroo’s eyes mere inches away from his. “That was -”

“That was good,” Kuroo says, and he raises a hand so he’s cradling Daichi’s cheek as well. “Again?”

“Yeah,” Daichi breathes, and Kuroo is the one who pulls him down now, who angles their mouths, who holds him a little closer and kisses him a little harder. Twice, thrice, four times, they kiss and break apart and kiss again, learning where hands go and how mouths should move and how to breathe, learning better and better what the sensation feels like and how to manipulate it.

“Y’know, we’re not doing it like they do on TV,” Kuroo says as they catch their breaths with their foreheads pressed together, his thumb stroking lightly over Daichi’s cheek in a way that’s quietly sending goosebumps down the back of his neck.

“On TV they’re usually trying to eat each other’s faces,” Daichi says, and Kuroo laughs softly.

“Let’s try that, then.”

“Kuroo, come on.”

“Let’s maybe just open our mouths a little and see how it feels, yeah?”

“ . . . Okay. Okay, yeah.”

So they do. Kuroo tugs Daichi’s lower lip between his teeth, sending that soft shock to his stomach again, before licking tentatively at his opening mouth. It’s honestly more slippery than anything else, which is not a word Daichi has ever heard in the context of open-mouthed kissing but is absolutely an apt descriptor, and he has no clue what to do with his tongue.

Kuroo tastes faintly of mint toothpaste, and more of something reminiscent of the smell of his skin. He’s calmer than Daichi feels, steady and patient as they try to settle into a pattern, but their teeth still end up clacking together painfully. Daichi pulls back instantly, flustered, and Kuroo waves off his apology. “Another try?” he says, already reaching up. There’s something so sweetly intoxicating about being wanted like this, so openly, and Daichi bends back down to meet him without thinking about it.

Kuroo’s fingertips are light on his jaw, urging Daichi into a kind of gentle push and pull this time. He presses forward and pulls back with the same rhythm that his mouth opens and closes, tilting his face so they fit together more closely, and Daichi does the same, and _oh_ , this is so much better. It sets little fireworks dancing inside Daichi’s chest, around his quietly hammering heart, and sends tingling sparks chasing down his spine.

“Good?” Kuroo murmurs as they break apart, a good fifteen seconds or so later.

“Really good.” Daichi settles a hand on his chest. “One more?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo says, and he’s smiling against Daichi’s mouth when they kiss again. They try the same thing, and it’s less clumsy now that they’ve figured out how to move against each other. Daichi tries nipping at Kuroo’s lower lip, like Kuroo had done before, and Kuroo makes a small sound low in his throat that makes Daichi shift closer in his lap, that makes his pulse speed up in the best kind of way.

It’s still not perfect, though. Daichi has to wipe his mouth on his sleeve when they finally stop, and Kuroo tries to do the same unobtrusively before they catch each other’s gaze and grin sheepishly. They’re both flushed, chests heaving just a little, and Kuroo looks so handsome with the moonlight painting the slope of his nose, outlining the curve of his mouth, that Daichi leans down and presses a soft kiss to his cheek.

“What was that for?” Kuroo whispers, nuzzling the line of Daichi’s jaw like an affectionate cat.

Daichi kisses his hair this time. “Just felt like it,” he whispers back.

Kuroo returns the favour by kissing him right behind the ear, and they sit nestled in each other’s arms for a few moments, content in the stillness of the night, in the hush of the lab.

“We should get going,” Daichi says eventually, leaning back with a certain amount of reluctance. “It’s past twelve.”

“Mm, we should.” Kuroo grins at him. “My legs are killing me, actually.”

Daichi glares at him, getting out of his lap. “You could have said something like ten minutes ago.”

“I was having too much fun, though,” Kuroo says, swinging his feet over the edge of the black marble and hopping off. “Had to make the best of it. Who knows when I’ll get to kiss you again?”

“I was that good, huh?” Daichi says, following him.

“I mean, you could do with a little practice -”

Daichi elbows him in the side. “Just say you liked it.”

“I liked it,” Kuroo says, reaching out to tangle his fingers together with Daichi’s as they walk through the lab side by side. When Daichi looks at him, he’s already smiling back. “I really liked it. And I like you.”

“We’ve established that,” Daichi says, feeling his cheeks grow warm.

“Mmhm. The question is, if I ask you out now, are you still going to turn me down? After we had the best first kiss ever?”

Daichi opens his mouth, then closes it again, at a loss for words. “Why don’t you ask me and find out?” he manages to say eventually.

“You’re really a tough one, huh, Sawamura?” Kuroo holds the lab door open for Daichi to pass through before following him.

“Hey, you’re the one who’s -”

He breaks off with a yelp as Kuroo tugs his hand hard, pulling Daichi back so he stumbles into him. “Hey,” Kuroo says, looking pleased with himself, his hands settling over Daichi’s where they’re braced against his chest.

“Hi, idiot,” Daichi laughs. “What are you trying to -”

“Sawamura.”

“What?”

“Wanna be my boyfriend?”

Daichi looks into those bright eyes, and curls his fingers into Kuroo’s shirt, and says, “I’d love to.”

Kuroo smiles so wide it looks like his cheeks might split. “Really?”

“Yep.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am.”

“Totally? ‘Cuz I don’t want you waking up tomorrow and realizing that you were just bewitched by my skillful kissing, you know -”

Daichi stands on his tiptoes and kisses Kuroo as firmly as he can. “Shut up,” he says, wrapping a hand around one of Kuroo’s wrists and leading him down the corridor. “Or I’ll take it back.”

“Yessir,” Kuroo says, intertwining their fingers again and swinging their hands between them like a kid.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Kuroo.”

“You mean hot.”

“Nah, cute is good enough.”

“You said I was hot before, though!”

Daichi bumps their hips together as they walk, ignoring this to say, “You do realize it’s going to be long distance right off the bat?”

“It’ll be fine, dude. We’ll have those romantic midnight calls, all huddled up under the blankets so our parents don’t catch us, and we’ll text all the time, and you’ll win your prelims and kick Ushijima’s ass and come back to Tokyo to train with us all the time.” Kuroo squeezes his hand. “And we can practice kissing some more. Simple.”

“I can’t tell if you’re an optimist or just a romantic,” Daichi sighs, but even he can hear the fondness in his own voice. “And after school?”

“The same college, maybe? We’ll figure it out in the morning.” Kuroo bends to press a fleeting kiss to Daichi’s temple. “Don’t worry about it, Sawamura. I’m not gonna be easy to get rid of.”

He says it with a quiet, easy conviction that’s surprisingly reassuring. “Okay, then,” Daichi says, squeezing his hand back, trying not to smile at the ground. “Okay.”

They walk down the stairs and outside, across the wide lawn that stretches between the main academic building and the classrooms where they sleep. The gyms stand locked with dark windows, tall and still in the moonlight, like they’re grateful to get a rest from yelling voices and endless flying volleyballs. Newly-born dew catches at their ankles as they walk through the grass and past the auditorium, and their footsteps slow as they get closer and closer to the building where the dorms have been set up.

Kuroo stops first, on the top step of the side door, biting his lip. “Sawamura?”

“Yeah?”

“This is probably going to sound really, uh, arrogant or something, but - “ He looks down at their hands. “I want to - I want to be a good boyfriend to you. I really do like you, and I want to be good enough that you end up feeling the same way about me that I feel about you. Even if it takes weeks, or months, or whatever. I just - I wanted to tell you that.”

 _Oh god_ , Daichi thinks faintly. Cocksure, teasing Kuroo Tetsurou is standing in front of him with this shy, hesitant smile, his shoulders hunched as he waits for Daichi’s answer, one foot scuffing the ground, and Daichi -

\- Daichi reaches out to hold both his hands, and pulls him as close as he can, and reaches up to kiss his forehead gently, tenderly. “Don’t worry about it, Kuroo,” he murmurs in his ear. “I’m already halfway there.”

Kuroo freezes for a second, and then his arms are winding around Daichi’s shoulders and squeezing him, hard. Daichi hugs him back, slipping his arms around his waist and tucking his face into his neck.

“You’re the best,” Kuroo mumbles.

“Mm, I know,” Daichi says, smiling against his skin. “Kuroo, I’m not gonna be able to breathe if you keep squeezing me like that.”

“Sorry,” Kuroo laughs, pecking Daichi’s cheek before taking half a step back, smiling back down at him. “I’m just happy.”

“You really need to stop saying sappy things that make me want to stay out here for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, can I persuade you to do that?”

“Like hell you can. I need sleep to kick your ass tomorrow.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Kuroo says, following Daichi as he opens the door and steps into the dark hallway. “I need to go put the keys back, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sure,” Daichi says, waiting for him by the bottom of the stairwell that will take him to Karasuno’s room. “See you in the morning.”

Kuroo drops a quick kiss on Daichi’s cheek as he walks past, down the hall, and Dachi can feel him smiling. “What was that for?” he laughs after him.

Kuroo turns, walking backward as he waves at Daichi. “Because I can!” he calls back, light and joyful.

And if Daichi sits by the foot of the stairs for a good five minutes afterwards, his hands pressed to hot cheeks as he grins like an idiot, well. That’s no one’s business but his own.

And Kuroo’s.

**Author's Note:**

> anyone else remember [this scene](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WVYjZiv6OHk) from miss congeniality?? unfortunately for kuroo i did sfdsjdfj  
> Ty for reading, I hope you liked! Feel free to drop by my Tumblr [here](https://yaelathewordsmith.tumblr.com/) and my Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/writer_yaela) for commissions info or just to chat ^.^ Any kind of feedback is always very welcome!


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